unknown factors
by MrsWhitlock97
Summary: chapter picks up at the hospital, after the ambulance ride. Not as good as the first chapter. story contains CHARACTER DEATH.
1. Chapter 1

Unknown factors

Ryan McPherson had been watching the BAU agents who had brought him in very carefully.

His fate was pretty much all but sealed. Thanks to this team of righteous do-gooders, he was already heading down river towards a life term in prison.

But he had no intentions of winding up stuck in some tiny eight by twelve cell of the rest of his life. Death was a hell of a more attractive option. So he had been watching. Waiting for his chance. He could make one last ditch attempt to get the hell out of there and disappear or he could die trying, and he was satisfied with that.

And based on what he had seen all morning, the puppy-dog eyed runt was his best bet.

The others had been careful to keep this kid at a distance, to make sure he stayed on the other side of the glass walls, scribbling outside, away from the room Ryan had been sitting while they had interrogated him. He seemed oblivious to the way they casually took hold of his arm or used their own steps to keep him from walking into a desk or partition, to the way they looked at him and the way they touched him, it was very clear that he meant something to all of them. He wasn't just another co-worker. He was important. Particularly to the hard-assed lead agent.

If he was going to get out of here he was going to need that kid.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone approaching the glass door and he dropped his gaze away from the kid, letting them nonchalantly slide across the floor, up his cuffed hands on the table and then up, just as the door opened and the lead agent-Hotchner - came in. He waved two fingers for Ryan top get to his feet.

"Come on McPherson. Your rides here."

Ryan got to his feet, making sure to keep his gaze away from where the kid was bent over a desk, flipping through two separate notebooks and scrawling hurried something's into a third. If he played it cool, and if they took him the most direct route out of the bullpen, it would take them right past that desk.

And that would be all the opening he needed.

The hardest part would be keeping the agent distracted enough not to notice that the kid was sitting right along side their path. "Can we stop at Mickey Dee's on the way or something? I kinda missed lunch, you know."

The lead agent looked at him, his expression twisting with disgust. "You're heading for permanent lock up and the last thing you want is a Mickey Dee's you kidding me?"

They moved out into the bullpen and it took everything in him not to grin as they started straight down the aisle that would take them by the kid's desk.

One second Hotch was walking next to McPherson, one hand on his back, and the next McPherson had lunged away from him. Hotch's first thought was What The Hell? Because there was nowhere for the guy to run. Resisting now would be just be plain stupid. The thought, however, was answered by a sharp cry that paralyzed his lungs.

Oh, God, Reid!

The sound was mixture of pain and surprise. Before Hotch could even move, McPherson had wrapped his hand around Reid's throat, dragging him into a half- standing position by his chair. Reid let out a strangled, gurgled cry. His hands scrambling blindly and futilely at the figure behind him. "Just stay back!" McPherson ordered.

"What the hell do you think your doing?" Hotch demanded, but still he stayed, unwilling to risk having this psycho do any further damage. Around them all activity in the office ceased, and the level of tension in the room racketing up to nearly breaking point of a dozen plus armed federal agents turned to face the hostage situation suddenly in their midst.

Reid was sagging despite himself due to the awkward angle he was being pulled back over his chair, his face contorting in pain as McPherson gave his hair a sharp jerk, trying to make him stand upright. His breathes came in short frantic bursts from his nose, the hand clamped around his neck and the chain form the handcuffs digging into his jaw making it impossible for him to keep his mouth open.

"You're in a BAU office," JJ told him. "What do you expect to accomplish by this?"

McPherson glanced down at Reid and said calmly. "I've seen the way you all watch him. He's important to you." his hand flexed around Reid's throat and Hotch felt his stomach turn violently as Reid's eyes widened., his back arching. His breath stalled completely replaced by the sickening sounds of choking and gagging.

"OKAY! Okay!" Morgan shouted, moving forward as far as he dared and then taking a step back. "Stop! We get it! You want out of here right?"

McPherson's hand relaxed and Reid sucked in as much breathe as he could, his chest heaving, eyes wide and terrified. " Goddamit McPherson!"

"You were the top of your class at fed school weren't you?" McPherson sneered. "Yeah I want out. And no-one tailing me either."

Hotch was both proud and scared out of his mind when Reid spoke, his voice barely audible. "I don' think-you appreciate the lengths these people are w-willing to keep you here." McPherson dragged on Reid's hair, eliciting a sharp his out of him and further exposing his neck. He spoke directly into Reid's

ear. "And I don't think you appreciate just how freaked out they are right now."

Reid cringed.

McPherson looked back up at Hotch. "All I want is for you to let me go. You can say I escaped or whatever. But I want to get gone."

"You know that's not an option." Prentiss said from where she was positioned, on their right, primed to take advantage of even the slightest opening. She had her hand on her gun and Hotch whished not for the first time that he hadn't taken his hand of his own.

"Are you sure about that.?" McPherson asked and then tightened his grip on Reid's hair. Reid let out a muffled cry that only increased in volume as his head was yanked, around pulling him away from the chair. He staggered and this time there were tears in his cry.

"Reid? Let him go McPherson or I swear to God."

Hotch got close maybe two or three feet away and McPherson immediately whirled round dragging a whimpering Reid around with him. "It would take next to no effort to snap his neck, agent Hotchner." he said and his fingers all but caressed Reid's exposed throat. Reid shuddered, eyelashes wet and sticking together, and rasped. "Hotch…"

"It's okay Reid." Hotch assured him, hands held out to show his palms. "You're going to be okay. We won't let anything happen to you, okay? You got me buddy?"

His lover swallowed, his chin twitching down in the slightest of nods. "Yeah Hotch." he whispered.

"Does this mean you're gonna let me out of here?" McPherson asked whilst giving Reid's head a rough pat. "Wouldn't want you to break anymore promises."

"Ryan, you know that this isn't going to end the way you want it to," JJ interjected. "But if you hurt Reid, its going to get a whole lot worse."

McPherson's mouth curled into a humourless smile. "How could it get any worse?"

"You haven't even gone to trail yet," Prentiss put in. "nothing's set in stone."

"Please ," McPherson said disdainfully and Hotch barely bit back a curse as Reid fought to get his feet underneath him. "You've been telling me the exact opposite all day."

"Convincing us and convincing a jury are two different things." JJ said.

Morgan couldn't stand it any longer. Morgan stepped forward and McPherson jerked back towards him, another strangled sound slipping form Reid's throat.

"Dammit! He can't breathe! You do a hell of negotiating with a dead hostage, McPherson!"

"Then I guess we're done negotiating." he said and adjusted his grip on Reid. For mere seconds Reid's breathes were noisy and ragged. It went against every instinct in Hotch, but he stepped to the side . His hands clenching and unclenching into fists. He gave Rossi a slight fraction of a nod.

The gunshot was defining in the space of the bullpen.

Hotch caught a glimpse of Reid's reddened face before both Reid and McPherson crumpled to the floor. Morgan and Prentiss rolled McPherson off Reid. The blood of both McPherson and Reid, began seeping onto Reid's white shirt. As he lay there he was surprised he couldn't lift his head. He felt to weak. Something warm and wet began to spread across his chest and his vision blurred as he saw Hotch

kneeling down next to him.

"Oh, God, Reid. Reid speak to me!"

"No…" Hotch whispered as he watched the red fresh blood spool out of Reid's chest. The bullet trapped in his heat. Rossi rushed up behind him. The smoke still curling out of the barrel of his gun, that had shot McPherson and ultimately Reid. Hotch felt tears prick his eyes, something that hadn't happened since Hailey had died. Carefully he pulled Reid's head to his chest. Reid tried to say something.

"H-Hotch… It hurts."

It did hurt. It hurt so much. Reid's brain registered that he had been shot, yet he didn't feel panicky. He didn't feel anything just the pain. Is this how Tobias/Raphael/Tobias's Father felt like when he shot him?

"Reid You have to hold on." he barely heard Hotch's voice as darkness edged his vision. He wasn't strong like Hotch or Morgan. He was weak.

"Reid, don't give up on us, don't give up on me, the team need's you. I need you!" Hotch begged as he looked down at his lover's pain filled, puppy dog eyes. Hotch realised something that he had never said to Reid, but Reid had always said it to him. "I-I can't live without you Reid, you fill that gap in my heart and I-I-I love you!"

Reid slowly lifted his hand up onto Hotch's face and rested it on his cheek. " I… love you to, and I-I'm sorry."

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, Spencer. Come on, Spencer. Don't do this to me!" Hotch

pleaded as his lovers eyes closed. Tears streamed down his face. "Please, don't die!"

"G-Good… Bye, Aa-Aaron…"

Reid's heart stopped.


	2. DOA

Chapter 2

How could it be that end of the world could be summarised in three little letters? A few little strokes of a pen; they would be so quick to write. And they were spinning around in his head now; it was as if those little letters were the only ones he knew.

DOA. You couldn't make much from them. DOA, oad, oda, ado. Much ado about nothing. He wished.

The plastic chair was hard and unforgiving beneath him. Aaron shifted, but he'd already learned that it was impossible to get comfortable on these seats. Somehow he doubted he'd ever be comfortable again.

The world was moving past his eyes. People came and went around him, sitting and standing, running or walking, but they all seemed to be moving in a different span of time from him. They were moving on into the future; he was stuck fast in the present, clinging to the past as though it could raise him from the depths of the ocean.

Yesterday. That had only been yesterday. One day ago, twenty seven hours. Spencer would have known how many minutes, how many seconds, but that was beyond Aaron. All he knew was that the last four of them had been plagued by those three letters, and that they had been the worst of his life. And it was never going to get better.

"Hi, JJ. No, I'm fine. You don't need to come over. Could you phone Spencer's mum? She needs to know. Thanks. Bye."

He closed the phone. Had JJ heard, as he had, the strangeness of his voice? The monotony, the flatness; it was not his voice. He had become someone else; a stranger, someone he would not recognise if he looked in the mirror. And he didn't want to know himself. Because it was his fault. All his fault.

"Agent Hotchner?"

His thoughts were disturbed by this voice, yet he didn't look up. It was as though the man was talking to someone else, someone in a different world. Someone who still felt alive.

"Agent Hotchner."

He looked up at that, at least.

"I'm sorry, Agent, but we'll have to move Mr Reid out of the ICU soon. Do you want to see him?" The doctor was young; she had to have only recently become a resident yet already there was a stoical detachment about her face and voice. She had seen this before, she knew she would see it again, and it just washed over her. The same way that after a while his job washed over him. You had to let it, because otherwise it destroyed you.

Not that he needed a job to do that. Family sufficed just as easily.

"Dr," he said mechanically.

"Excuse me?"

"He's a Dr."

The doctor nodded, gentle and almost too understanding. "Are you waiting for anyone, Agent Hotchner? Family, friends, anyone you want to do this with?"

"Do what?" Aaron said brazenly. "He's just my lover. I don't need anyone holding my hand to go and see him."

"You don't have to do this on your own. There's a phone, if you need to tell someone-"

"Tell them what?" Aaron demanded, and his temper flared. "There's nothing to tell! It was an accident, just an accident! It was just a bullet, just one bullet."

For a moment the doctor's calmness changed to confusion, which faded quickly into sympathy. Aaron didn't like that look.

"I'm sorry, Agent. The paramedics tried, but there was nothing they could do. He was dead on arrival."

There it was again. DOA, DOA, all the time, the letters bouncing around in his head until they lost all meaning; they were just letters, a code, a code that would tell him what to do, a code that Spencer could break, but Spencer was not there...

"Stop saying that! He's just acting, pretending in case the bastards who did this come back – but it's not for real; you've got to understand that, you've got to help him! You can't just give up!"

"I'm so sorry, Agent. Do you want to see him?"

And then the confidence collapsed. Aaron shook, and when he looked up at the doctor he saw her through a veil that blurred her into a indistinct colors and shapes.

"He can't die," he whispered. "He's my lover. And I never got to say – I never told him that I loved him." He was crying in earnest now, though he had not noticed; silent tears spilled down pale cheeks. "But he'll come back," he said suddenly, and though he was still crying his eyes lit up. "He wants to know I love him. That's what he's waiting for. If I tell him, he'll come back!" A new sense of purpose filled Aaron. He felt stronger, he felt complete again; he stood up and felt fire in his heart.

But the doctor only laid a hand on his arm, her eyes telling Aaron things that he refused to accept. "You can tell him, Agent, but he won't hear you. Not anymore."

He was proud of his lover. He always had been. But sometimes he wished Spencer could have been born without a scrap of intelligence. Because then he wouldn't be walking along this cold corridor with legs made of lead, he wouldn't be fighting the world just to move or even force air into his lungs. If his lover had been stupid it would have been him lying on the gurney, it would have been him that could be labelled with the three cold letters DOA. And how he wished it had been.

JJ and I had been holding him up, in the office. He knew, and the world had begun to pass dimly on in front of him much as it had been ever since. But some of the words of the paramedics had permeated his detachment.

"_No pulse."_

"_Hypervolemic shock."_

"_CPR..."_

"_Exsanguinations?"_

And that final, fatal pronouncement.

"_DOA."_

And then without realising it I was standing by the large window to a room with a single bed, and I was staring at my lover. His young lover, his face pale and still and cold. And Aaron could not go in. He couldn't enter the room, he couldn't stand beside his lover because it was his fault, all his fault.

Now it was Aaron that crumpled to the floor, leaning with his back to the window, and sobbing his heart out onto the cold plastic linoleum.

That was how his team found him an hour later; still sobbing though he barely had any tears left. And without a word spoken Rossi sank to the ground beside him, and drew him into a crushing hug. Now the letters haunted them both, and they always would.

"_Hey, Aaron?" Spencer, leaning against the sofa, deposited his half empty glass on the coffee table next to his lover's feet. They had migrated to the living room. _"_Yeah, Spence?" Aaron smiled easily at his lover, ruffling the younger man's hair from his position of power above where Spencer sat on the floor._

"_Love you."_

"_I know, Spence .I know."_

He had thought there would always be time. But there wasn't. There never would be again.

"I love you too, Spencer," he whispered, drowning out the echoing letters in his mind. "I love you too."


End file.
